


Facing It

by DegenerateBible



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Hurt and comfort, M/M, S18Ep15
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-10 16:26:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11130444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DegenerateBible/pseuds/DegenerateBible
Summary: George comforts Rafael after the events of S18E15 after it comes out that he gave money to a witness knowing she would buy drugs and died from an overdose.Written for dine48.





	Facing It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dine48](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dine48/gifts).



He finds him on the balcony of his apartment. He’s leaning against the balcony railing smoking a cigarette. There’s a heavy tumbler of scotch on the small table, a phone buzzing somewhere in the house. Barba doesn’t move when the front door opens and shuts, doesn’t turn from the view of the city. But he does sigh when the other man steps onto the balcony. 

“Rafael,” the doctor says softly. Rafael turns. His lover’s face is awash with worry. He stands in a pair of chinos, a white shirt no longer crisp, his burgundy tie slightly skewed, his hands in his pockets. 

“Who told you?” Barba says quietly, turning away from him and taking another pull of the cigarette. He hears the light footfalls, sees in his peripheral as George comes to stand beside him. 

He takes the cigarette from him, taking a drag before exhaling tiredly. “Olivia. Though she didn’t need to.” 

Rafael takes it back, takes a pull, then flicks it over the edge. “I was going to tell you. I just…I didn’t know how.” He turns away, going to his drink. 

George watches his slightly trembling hands. His eyes are purposely distant. He’s shielding himself, a defense Huang knows well. 

“You were ashamed,” he says boldly, watching the attorney falter at his words. It hurts but he knows it’s necessary. “You were ashamed,” he repeats, “and embarrassed and angry. You couldn’t face me until…” 

“Until I faced myself,” Rafael finishes. They stare at each other across the small space. Time seems slowed now, even the city sounds seem muted. “All these years and I thought I would never have to.” 

“But have you?” George asks, not daring to move. He can’t help but think of Rafael when he was younger, fresh-faced and arrogant. 

“I thought that by giving her daughter money I was absolving myself. I felt so guilty and I thought that,” he breaks off, laughing bitterly, “cash could make it all better. Can I ever face that fact?” 

“You’re not as callous as you think,” George notes with a small smirk, “it wasn’t the money itself. Rather the idea you could give her a better life than even her mother could.” 

“Either way that woman is dead,” his voice falters, pained. He knocks back his drink in one swallow. “And inadvertently or not, I’m responsible. Even if my boss doesn’t fire me. I’ll live with it.”

He doesn’t want to meet George’s gaze but somehow he does. The doctor’s eyes are carefully blank but his body is taught like he’s prepared for a fight. They know how dangerous grief and guilt can be but something about his lover’s face, the lack of judgement, pity, even sympathy has him closing the gap between them. 

“You are not a victim nor a perpetrator,” George says with such understanding that Rafael almost cries. “You made a mistake. And despite no one else knowing, you’ve already been living with it. You have to forgive yourself.” 

Rafael pulls him to his chest desperately. 

“I’ve done a terrible thing,” he whispers. 

“We’ve all done terrible things.” 

Rafael huffs but doesn’t argue, steadied by the hands wrapped securely around his sides, the shorter man safely in his arms. He’d been afraid that this man, this compassionate, selfless, patient man would leave him for what he’d done. George seems to know this, for he pulls himself slightly away to look critically at Rafael’s face. 

“I don’t hold this against you,” he says softly, his brown eyes warm, “It would be very hypocritical if I did.” A slight grimace at his own professional failings from long ago.

Rafael pulls his head back to his chest for a hug then sinks into a chair, his voice weary but fond. “You are many things bonito, but hypocritical is not one of them.” 

“Not at this phase in my life anyway,” George says. “You should’ve seen all of us years ago. Fin, Liv, me, Munch. We’ve all gone to unethical lengths for justice.” 

“How did you get through it?” 

He watches George seat himself in a chair across from him. His face is distant with memories. “As terrible as this sounds, we didn’t have time to think about it. So many others needed our help and they still do. But we also had each other.” He looks up at his lover with a sad smile. “We were a family. We knew, sometimes without saying a word. But we knew.” 

“Did you know about me? When we met?” 

George nips his lower lip, looking away. “I knew that you were a man who liked to win,” he looks at him again with tenderness. “Probably because you had lost so much in life.” 

“We all have things that keep us up at night,” Rafael says, wondering if he were really that easy to read. He decides he isn’t; his lover just knows him like no other. 

“Yes,” George agrees. “Yes we do.” 

They sit in comfortable silence for a long moment, occasionally sparing glances at each other. 

“Cook me something?” George asks suddenly. He knows Rafael hasn’t truly eaten but he also knows how much he secretly relaxes in this kitchen. 

Rafael smiles for the first time in days. “What are you in the mood for?” 

His lover pretends to ponder. “Sitting on the countertop drinking wine while you hum musicals under your breathe and occasionally let me chop something?” 

The attorney’s smile only deepens. A weight slides off his chest. “Lead the way."

**Author's Note:**

> More prompts/comments always appreciated.


End file.
